


Response

by Flightstone



Category: Tales of Graces
Genre: Gen, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-27
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2018-02-22 19:46:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2519630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flightstone/pseuds/Flightstone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richard makes an interesting discovery in Asbel’s room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Response

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Richard." Asbel called cheerfully into the upstairs room, his jacket hooked over one arm. He was actually kind of proud - it had taken him and Sophie a full day, but they’d managed to relocate all of Hubert’s books to the study. That’s what most of Hubert’s belongings had been - books - and a few models which they had perched along the shelves with some of Dad’s. They’d decided to leave the large wooden ship hanging from its hook on the wall, though; it seemed wrong to take it out of port after all this time. And finally, he’d undertaken the duty of cleaning up his desk. Dusting, scrubbing, throwing away all his old junk—  
  
And that’s exactly where he found Richard now, with one gloved hand resting elegantly on the wooden surface, examining something with apparent interest. Something rectangular and made of folded paper.  
  
Asbel’s heart suddenly seized up as he darted quickly towards him. _The letters!_ It had to be the letters - and after he’d sworn to himself he’d shove them as far back into the bottom drawer as he could!  
  
The hurried footsteps must have alerted Richard, because his blond head rose suddenly, and he turned around, looking a bit embarrassed.  
  
"Forgive me, Asbel. I didn’t mean to pry into your affairs."  
  
"N-no. It’s okay…!" Asbel practically spluttered, wishing that it had been any affair but that. He was still getting letters from girls all over Ephinea, letters he didn’t even want. But Mom wouldn’t let him toss them out, not until he made up his mind about…about _things_.  
  
Asbel glanced up at his friend pathetically, only to find that Richard still seemed to be lost in thought, one thin finger pressed to his chin.   
  
"Richard?" He tried.  
  
"Asbel, that letter…" Richard began slowly.  
  
"Yeah?" After another few seconds Asbel couldn’t take it anymore. "Look, Richard, I— I mean it’s not. I wasn’t going to…"  
  
"Is that not the very letter that I left behind, on Lhant Hill, well over two years ago?"  
  
Asbel felt like he’d just had a bucket of cold water flung into his face. Without a word his eyes snapped back towards the desk. The letter. Not the proposals, but _the_ letter Richard had hoped he would find.  
  
"Oh, you’re right. Now I remember. I left it sitting there because I didn’t know what to do with it," Asbel admitted sheepishly. "I’ve thought about writing you a reply at least a dozen times, but I wasn’t sure what to say in one. I mean, it’s pretty late and everything."  
  
"It’s perfectly all right, Asbel. You don’t need to respond at all. I’m simply relieved to know that it made its way to you." Richard seemed to have relaxed, his hand resting on one hip and his eyes resting on Asbel’s face, smiling.  
  
"Yeah, but it sounded like you were really in trouble! And I didn’t do a thing. I didn’t even try to go see you. Not once in all that time, even though you were so close."  
  
"…It may be just as well. I hate to think what might have happened if Cedric and his supporters had discovered you. I’m certain they wouldn’t have taken any chances, not if they knew I had allies in the capital who would have helped me to escape."  
  
"But…!"  
  
"Besides which, you were going through difficulties of your own. Coping with the loss of Sophie, your brother’s adoption, and training to become a member of the knights. I can hardly blame you. And you did answer my letter in your way. You came to my aid, and you saved me, Asbel."  
  
Asbel shook his head, brows creasing. “That’s not good enough.”  
  
"If you truly feel that way, then perhaps you can make it up to me."  
  
"How’s that?" Asbel asked curiously.  
  
"There’s…something I’ve wanted to do for a long time now. If that’s all right with you, of course."  
  
Asbel tilted his head, shifting the jacket from one arm to the other. “What is it?”  
  
"Oh, not much." Richard took a step closer, leaning in.  
  
Asbel could feel Richard’s breath tickling his skin, and it took every ounce of willpower for him not to move, feeling his face heat up, as if Richard himself was a lit hearth and he was standing too close.  
  
"And that’s?" Asbel tried to speak around the lump in his throat, wondering wildly if Richard was planning to do something…bold. It definitely wasn’t the first time they’d gotten this close. He always seemed to get flustered and Richard… Richard would maybe ask him a question, or cup his cheek, or look him straight in the eyes, but always Richard would pull away first.  
  
Maybe this time would be different?  
  
Asbel steeled himself, determined not to budge, no matter what. Determined that he wouldn’t chicken out, wouldn’t let on how Richard’s proximity affected him - made him nervous, but not _nervous_ -nervous.  
  
Richard’s head was tilting by increments, his eyes heavy and half-lidded. Asbel had already decided that he’d keep his own eyes open. He didn’t want to miss even a second of what would happen next - he’d burn the sight into his memory and hold it there forever.  
  
Lifting a hand, Richard’s fingers glided right past his cheek, catching several auburn strands between thumb and index finger.  
  
"Your hair," he replied calmly.  
  
"My—what?" Stunned, Asbel could only watch as Richard nodded intently, further inspecting his choppy hairdo.  
  
"Yes, it’s certainly been a long time since someone styled it properly. The ends appear to be splitting, as well."  
  
"Richard, seriously?" Asbel couldn’t decide whether to feel relieved or disappointed, but he suspected it was the latter.  
  
"May I?"  
  
"Well. If this is a way I can make it up to you…" Asbel admitted lamely.  
  
"Excellent! We’ll begin at once."  
  
"Right now?!"  
  
"Is this a bad time?"  
  
"No, not really. But I thought that…"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Um. No, it’s nothing."  
  
"A minimal amount of hair gel should do the trick. And we’ll require scissors and a razor, of course. Come, Asbel, we mustn’t delay!"  
  
"Yeah, all right." With a sigh, Asbel trudged after him, wondering if maybe this was one of his friend’s jokes. Surely he hadn’t been preoccupied with his hair for this long? But then again, it was hard to imagine anything making Richard feel as unsure of himself as he had just a moment ago. Maybe he was just thinking about this too hard.  
  
Or maybe, he’d try to pen a reply letter after all.


End file.
